


Angels Can't Fly

by Deyanira



Category: Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: Gen, Joshua is still an asshole, TWEWY Bang fic that I never finished nor do I plan to, Unfinished
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 22:52:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1835146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deyanira/pseuds/Deyanira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joshua Kiryu makes the mistake of trying to bring Megumi back from being erased.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angels Can't Fly

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally for the TWEWY Bang 2013. I had to drop due to depression and having general writers block. I wanted to finish it so badly, but the words never came. So, I figured I would post it here

Falling. A bird with broken wings can no longer fly, but he could pretend for a little while. The Composer no longer had wings to suspend him in flight, but useless and broken masses of feathers. He was falling into darkness, and there was no escape, suffocating in the black and tarry mass which surrounded him. Joshua was a bird with broken wings, and he could no longer escape the consequences of his actions. Waking up, he gasped for breath. The spacious room granted a reprieve from his current nightmares. His heavy breathing vibrated the air, the humid gas entering his lungs. Throwing the covers from his slight body, the apparent teen lifted himself from bed. Joshua’s hand curled around a pillow, lifting the down sack and tossing it back down with as much force as he could muster. “I can no longer fly, visit other Me’s. What is the point?” He muttered, the anger overwhelming the anxiety he felt. One of his personal favorite perks of being the Composer was being able to fly. Joshua could drop everything he felt and just fly, and then all seemed trivial when in the sky. The city and Her citizens were nothing more than small pinpricks of black, spattering the concrete cityscape. An invert of the atmosphere, where the people could be stars. 

Dreams used to be an escape, a way out of the pressures of the day, but he could not run away from his problems. They would always follow him, until death do they part. Higher Plane be damned. His wings were broken, traveling between dimensions banned. Angels monitored his movements. This was not a life, at least, not in the way Joshua saw it. He was charged with defending the city, Her life intertwined with his own. The Long Game only proved the fact he could not bend the rules as much as he desired. Although a hive mind was achieved, it shattered Shibuya into splinters, not allowing for growth or individuality. This is where her greatest strengths lay. And Megumi! That fool! He ignored the simple truth: humanity was not ready for a hive mind, nor were they willing to give up their individuality. Individuality allowed Shibuya to grow strong, for if anything at all, her strength was the conglomerate of individual souls and differences. They would rub against each other, wear each other down, working it down into small grains of sand. The end of their life, they were nothing more than sand on the beach, the waves of the Higher Plane crashing down to wear them down further. Sitting on the white sands of the shore, he could contemplate his life. The wrongs he made to so many of his colleagues, to his betrayal of his Proxy, and his own Producer’s betrayal. Sakuraba trusted him. In the end, after all was done, Neku still trusted his choices and decisions. What would he say to Neku, after everything? “Would I apologize?” The Composer thought it over. He was hardly one to apologize for his actions, but perhaps he should. “I wouldn’t.” Joshua believed he had nothing to apologize for, after all, it was his plan to use Neku against Megumi. And what of the snake? Where did everyone go after erasure? They said they were pieces of imagination, but even Yoshiya could put those back together. He was often called an Angel of Death, but the Angel of Life as well. 

Angel was a misnomer, in his personal opinion. Angels were beings of a hive mind, preferring to work for the greater good, the good for all. And Joshua couldn’t stand them. The light breeze whispered about Shibuya’s citizens, a lilting lullaby of hope and dreams. She was telling her darling Composer to sleep. “Do not fear loneliness, for I am here.” The City could reassure him all She wanted, but he felt no comfort. Yoshiya could feel her wantonness beneath the soothing words. Shibuya was angry at him for attempting to change her, to bring her back to the beginning. No amount of words, actions or otherwise would change his opinion. To slip back into the world of dreams sounded blissful, but he could easily fall back into nightmares. Easing himself back into bed, the ash colored curls splayed on the pillows. Sleep came easy, and instead of the hell-hole of his nightmares, he was in Shibuya. “Composer.” 

“Who, who is there?”

“Composer. Surely you recognize my voice.” Deep down, he did recognize it, but it was easier to ignore the pain which overwhelmed him upon hearing it. His former Conductor was alive after all, in this realm. “Megumi. It has been a while.”

“Yes indeed, Sir. I take you are wondering why you are here.” Joshua nodded, a hint of a smile on his features. “The City misses me. You can hear her speaking of it during the night. Have you noticed that, Sir?”

“On occasion, yes. I did not think much of it. She always loved you. I should...I should apologize to you. I shouldn’t have done this to you.”   
“No, Composer. I lost the Game, and I thank you for the opportunity. It’s nothing horrible you’ve done. It was your duty. I see you have not destroyed the city. Did your Proxy truly teach you something? I’m glad. You needed to see the City could change.”   
“I don’t want you to leave me. You forced my hand, Sanae betrayed me. How can you honestly say that I wished for my greatest friend to leave me? I made it appear so easy, but...I miss you. Can’t I bring you back? I’m already in trouble with the Higher Plane. I doubt they could do worse.”   
“Yoshiya.” Megumi never used his name unless in hushed tones. “Bringing me back to the Underground would be a mistake. I am no longer useful. My life has run its course. That is not something you can change. I am here to thank you.”   
“Megumi. Don’t leave me here alone. Please don’t leave me alone.”   
“I’m afraid I must. Otherwise how are you to grow as a person?” Joshua’s eyes watered. “I don’t want to grow anymore. I didn’t think it was possible for me to want to keep things the same, but if it means keeping you around...then I wish to do whatever possible to keep you here with me.”   
“You’re not listening, Composer. I suppose you have a hard time learning as well. Forcing the City into a stagnant state is to ruin her. It would be akin to sealing a well and refusing to allow it aeration. The water will grow stale. This is why Shibuya would fail. Ruining the city for your own selfish desires. I expected you to be above doing so.”

“I’m afraid I am not. Or I was not. I changed, just as you said. Why isn’t that enough? I am in need of more Reapers. With you, the Game was at its most efficient. The Players knew what they must do in order to survive. There is hardly anyone left after the fiasco that was the Long Game.”

“I know, but I am not a Player, nor a low-ranking Reaper. I only wish to help the city. And if this is in her best interests, then I have done my job.”

“Maybe you did not do enough. Or perhaps it is my time to step down, and allow the next Composer to bide their time over the city. However, I doubt the Higher Plane would allow me to ascend.” Joshua sighed, the streets of the city frozen around him. Shibuya in grey-scale was not exactly unusual. She was built of steel and concrete, after all. His own alabaster skin hardly stood out from the crowd. Megumi, however, stood in dark relief, the rich inky tones of hair a striking contrast to the city around them. At times, Joshua felt like a child when the Conductor was around, and always had. Even when the snake jumped the ranks, getting to the position of Conductor relatively quickly. When the concept of the Long Game occurred, it was spoken of over a game of chess, black and white fighting viciously until the end. Joshua won that game. He always won, but this time he had to fight for his title. The Anguis was hardly worried, easily gaining ground up until the end. Winning was easy, even without underhanded tactics, knights and bishops fighting bitterly to attack the King.  “How would you feel if I destroyed Shibuya? Allowed to begin again anew?”

“No, Composer. An abuse of power in such a way is wrong, and destroying the City, what good would come of it?” This was the beginning of the end for their companionship. The Composer brought up subtle hints to destruction, to the End. All the while, the Conductor schemed, creating his map to winning the city. And in the end, they battled viciously for the City. Joshua agreed to remove himself from the battle, but cheating was not necessarily discouraged. And when fighting a war, it was easy to see why they needed to cheat. Underhanded tactics to destroy the enemy. In this case, the enemies were good friends, but nothing would change. Joshua took his fee like any other Player, though this fee was larger than most. At the time, he believed it to be just, as this was unlike any other Game. This was for the city: for her to become a phoenix or simply overrun the other districts. The Angels would not appreciate the overrunning, nor would the other Composers of the other districts. His colleagues would then have a reason to kill him. Joshua couldn’t have that. Shaking his head to clear those thoughts away, he smiled at his former Conductor. It was brilliant, and Megumi’s eyes widened behind his shades. They were shades of amber hidden behind beneath the black shades he always wore. Joshua’s shining grin was bright, brighter than light. “Composer.”   
“You know, Megumi. I’ve learned so much. “It’s not the destination you are meant to enjoy, Megumi. It’s the journey. We’ve learned from each other, bounced ideas off each other...of course it won’t always be perfect, but we’re here. In this moment, we’re still here. You will remain as my Conductor, and you were the best I had. And though we’re here in this place, I do believe my time is up. I am no longer the best Composer Shibuya could possibly have. There is no shame in admitting it. Shibuya has outgrown me and my supposedly outdated ideals.”    
“Yoshiya. Bringing me back would only end in ruin. Please remember the city’s desires as well. You’ll be waking soon.”

“I suppose this is goodbye.” Joshua was not one for being sentimental, nor was his Conductor. “Not goodbye. I’m still within Shibuya, my soul fragments scattered about.” Yoshiya nodded, appearing to think of the implications. “See you later, then.”

“Good luck.” When the last syllable left the Anguis’ lips, he woke within his bed, strangely calmed after the encounter. Deep down, the storm within him blew away, leaving his ocean calm and glassy, occasional waves striking the shore. Although bring his Conductor back would be against his wishes, what was one more person? His own punishment had already been decided, and an increase in the severity was unlikely. They took away what he loved most, after all. Although it was early, the city streets were already bustling with people and cars. Honking and the shuffling of the populace created its own euphony of city life. Shibuya weaved a pleasant song around the noise, filtering out any cacophony there may have been before. Mornings were his favorite part of the day, as was evenings. Shibuya was winding up in the mornings, preparing to sing all day, and then wind down in the evenings. She would slow down, a seductive siren for dreams. Joshua took a deep breath, easing out the air. He had to work today, and there was no avoiding it. The Dead God’s Pad was sterile, no such thing as style or beauty within it. It merely existed for functionality. Nothing quite special about it. The tones of grey and and white only added to the “functionality” of appearance. And the throne of tires hardly a throne at all. “They call me the Dead God for a reason, however. And used tires seem rather fitting,” he muttered to himself. If he had his way, the throne room would be white, with subtle variations upon the theme of isolation. Then again, he always seemed to get his way most of the time. He was Composer, though one without a Conductor. Joshua grinned. Perhaps without one...for long. Regardless of the snake’s wishes, Joshua had his own ideas. Megumi was the best at what he did, the Conductor before him miserable and hardly worth noting. 

There were worse things than death, and Joshua was all too aware of them. “Let the dead rest. An outdated idea.” The dead were reused over and over within Shibuya’s imagination, allowing their ideas to flow to those still alive. It wasn’t the most efficient system, but it was proven to work. The Reaper’s Game was about a second chance at life, and hoping the individual would alright with losing what was most precious to them. If they learned to live without it, then Joshua had done his job. Finding a new passion to lead them to a better life. And maybe, they would learn what was truly important. Not the silly things he took as entry fees. Shiki, that intelligent girl, she had her head on straight when she realized she no longer wished to be Eri, that her self identity was her greatest gift. Neku finally opened up into realizing people and friends were a gift. Joshua shook his head. His own fee was memories, but he had yet to learn from it, according to his superiors. “Megumi.” The serpent’s name felt good on his tongue, reminding him of his dearest Conductor. He already decided on bringing him back to life, but his Soul Fragments were quite scattered. It would take a few hours to track them all down. Unless...The Composer already made his decision. “Megumi. I need you here,” he whispered. Joshua spent hours looking for the small fragments of soul scattered about Shibuya. There was not a Game this week, making it easier to peer and prod about the city. The Anguis’ soul was easy to find, as it was stronger than the other Reapers and human soul fragments within the city. “I always thought the Higher Plane had some sort of power I did not. They do, but I learned I was just as strong as they. You’ll be back very soon, my friend.” Joshua’s voice echoed around the Room of Redemption. With that, Joshua broke one of his many restraints placed upon him by the Angels. Was it possible for Composers to become part of the Fallen? If so, perhaps he joined their ranks. Returning someone to their original state from fragments did not take long, but as Megumi spent so long as such, it would take longer to recreate his form. Leaving the room, a soft smile appeared on his lips. 

Shibuya’s song was growing stronger. She seemed to approve of Joshua’s decision, as he could feel her gentle caress on his body while he was out and about.  Perhaps tonight she would bless him with sleep. Pleasant dreams allowing him to feel less guilt about what happened during the Long Game. 

Sleep came easy that night, and Joshua felt no guilt for his actions earlier that day. The city’s lilting lullaby simply lulled him into an easy sleep, dreaming of bright colors and flying around the city. He was blessed with flight, going anywhere and everywhere, and nothing was horrible. There was no pain, no terror. Only the wind wrapping around his body. A gentle tugging on his back warns him of danger. Suddenly his wings disappear, and he is crashing to the Earth, terminal velocity crushing him and the concrete coming up faster and faster, and this was it, wasn’t it? His life was ending, and would end right at this moment. Shibuya seemed to get louder all around him, the bass line driving around him and gods, why did he become his own worst enemy? Maybe listening to the Higher Plane was the right thing to do, in the end. “Joshua.” Megumi’s voice echoed. His lavender eyes opened just before impact, body jerking up. Alabaster skin was covered in sweat, and he couldn’t help keep breathing heavily. It was as vivid as reality. Is that how it felt to Fall? Joshua felt the need to ask Sanae his opinion on the dream. The barista would know, wouldn’t he? “Composer.” Perhaps he was still dreaming, as he could still hear Megumi. The consequences of yesterday’s actions didn’t quite hit him yet. “Composer.” The snake’s voice was slightly more insistent this time around. Looking around his apartment, his Conductor was sitting at the edge of Joshua’s bed. “Morning, Megumi.”

“Composer. Why am I here?” Joshua is silent. He knew he disobeyed the other man, and he could practically hear the disappointment dripping from the smooth voice. Curling up beneath his sheets, the Composer looked away, far from meeting the amber eyes studying him. “I asked you a question,” Kitaniji ventured. 

“I know.”

“Why won’t you answer me?”

“I don’t know how to answer you. I was being completely selfish. I just wanted to have a reminder, someone who would pull me back when I got too ambitious. You did that before, and I suppose my reasoning deemed you would once more. I know as Composer I am meant to be infallible and unbiased. I can’t help it...I suppose I felt I needed you here with me.”

“Yoshiya. You cannot do something based on a simple whim. I thought you knew better than that.”

“I do know better, but loneliness kills sanity. You’ve seen it before.”

“I have, but you were not going insane. You’re lying. Though I cannot simply revert back to fragments, I may as well help you, but you are aware you have done wrong, and must be punished accordingly, yes?”

“My wings are bound, I cannot travel. I am already punished for my crimes. I doubt the Angels would punish me further when they know they have taken what I loved most.” Joshua gives the Anguis a hint of a smile before reclining back on his elbows. The purple eyes studied the older male. He did appear older, hints of silver on his temples and the goatee he wore so proudly. His skin was still as pale as before, no hint of the sun ever touching it. Snakes were attracted to warmth, at least as far as Joshua was concerned.  And yet here the man was, appearing untouched from total erasure.

“Well, if I have truly returned, then I have work to be done.” With that, Kitaniji stood from the bed, waiting for Joshua to get up. “Things are not like before,” the Composer warned. The snake nodded in agreement, as if to point out life constantly changed. He threw the covers off of himself, sliding out of bed. “Please return to the Dead God’s Pad. I’ll be there shortly.”

“Yes, Composer.” The Conductor could feel his boss’ eyes on him, watching him as he left the room. “Oh, Composer, what have you done?” His words were soft, but Joshua heard them all the same. Even he, the Dead God, had no idea. He only knew that perhaps some things are meant to be left alone. Maybe he did not learn from his mistakes after all. 

The last place Joshua wanted to be was the Pad. Much less so with Megumi waiting for him within. There was something not quite right about the situation. Not even breakfast would ameliorate the slight dread bubbling up in his stomach. Walking in, back straight and head held high, the Composer entered his pad. Dead air. At night, the place was full of people, bodies rubbing against one another while music pumped against Shibuya’s song. It was dead during the day, the piranha in the tank below following their owner’s footsteps. “Before I ask you why you returned me from the Erased, how is Shibuya? Her song seems deflated, somehow.” Megumi’s voice echoed around him.

“She has been like this since you were Erased. The City has been angry with me, and refused to allow me to sleep since your departure. She loves you dearly, dare I say she loves you far more than I.”

“I must disagree. She loves you, too, Yoshiya. You cannot claim to know all of her.”

“Nor can you.”

“Then we are at a stalemate. Now then. Have you thought about a proper answer to my question, Composer?”

“No.” It was all Joshua would state on the matter, as he couldn’t give an explicit answer. No matter how many times Megumi asked, he would not know, nor would he ever now. He had a sneaking suspicion about his subconscious, but the idea would never make it out of his mouth. “I see you’re reluctant to speak. I’ll be checking the city and her boundaries. I expect you to be here when I return. Understand?” The snake waited until his Composer nodded before leaving him alone once again.  The Higher Plane’s punishment seemed kind in relation to how his Conductor was treating him. Maybe paying them a visit, or at least Sanae a visit would be in his best interests. He was his moral guidance, after all. And though their relationship was strained as of late, it would be better to ask him for help than none at all. Joshua made a mental note to see the Angel after Megumi returned.

The Composer thought over the situation, wondering if he did the right thing. Probably not, considering all he had done. 

 


End file.
